I woke again with a pounding headache, my entire body aching. My arms and legs felt like lead, and the cold, hard floor beneath me sent chills straight to my core. Around me, muffled sobs and gasps of fear echoed through the room, but it was the silence that hung between the cries that chilled me most.

"Bloom?" I croaked, my voice barely audible.

"I'm here," she whispered from the far wall, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes wide and darting around the room. "Jamie, I'm so scared."

"Where are we?" I asked, my voice trembling as I slowly sat up. My body protested every movement, pain radiating through my limbs.

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice shaking. "But... something's wrong here. Really wrong."

I glanced around the room. At least twenty children, all around our age, were crammed into the cold, metal space. Boys and girls huddled together, shivering, their bare skin exposed to the freezing air. The humiliation of being stripped of our clothes only added to the overwhelming terror.

Before I could process the situation, the door groaned open, the harsh sound making everyone jump. Louis stepped in, his towering figure silhouetted by the dim light outside the room. His sharp, calculating gaze swept over us like a predator choosing its next meal.

"Quiet," he snapped, his voice cold and commanding. The room fell silent, the muffled cries and whispers dying in an instant.

Without another word, Louis reached for one of the boys. The child's screams filled the air as he was dragged out of the room, his voice echoing down the hallway until the door slammed shut. My stomach churned with dread.

One by one, the boys were taken. Each time, they returned pale and trembling, their eyes hollow and glazed. They wouldn't speak, wouldn't answer any of our questions. They simply sat in a corner, clutching themselves, shaking uncontrollably.

"What are they doing to them?" Bloom whispered, clutching my arm. Her nails dug into my skin, but I didn't flinch.

"I don't know," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But it's not good."

Hours passed. The boys remained eerily silent, their pale faces now tinged with something else—softness. I noticed subtle changes: their features grew more delicate, their voices higher when they mumbled in their sleep. It was happening slowly, but it was undeniable. They were changing.

"Bloom," I whispered, shaking her. "Look at that boy"

She turned, her eyes widening as she took in his altered face. His jawline was softer, his eyelashes longer. Even his hands appeared smaller, more delicate.

"What's happening to them?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"I think..." I hesitated, struggling to form the words. "I think they're becoming like us. Girls."

The door creaked open again, and Louis stepped inside, followed by two of his men. His face lit up with a sinister smile as he looked over the children.

"Ah, my precious creations," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "The boys are coming along beautifully. Soon, you'll all be perfect."

"What are you doing to them?" I demanded, standing despite the shaking in my legs. "Why are you doing this?"

Louis smirked, his eyes locking onto mine. "Because, Jamie, I've discovered something extraordinary. The machine you found was just the beginning. I've perfected it, and now I can reshape the future."

He gestured to the room. "These boys? They're the first of many. Soon, I'll transform children everywhere. A world where everyone is the same... where differences are erased. Isn't that beautiful?"

"You're insane!" Bloom shouted, tears streaming down her face. "You can't just take away who they are!"

Louis chuckled darkly. "Oh, but I can. And I have. And you know what's even better?" His smile widened. "None of these kids have parents waiting for you anymore. I made sure of that."

The room fell deathly silent as his words sank in.

"You killed their parents?" I whispered, my voice trembling with rage.

"Of course," Louis said nonchalantly. "Orphans are much easier to experiment on."

Before Louis could say another word, a deafening crash echoed through the building. Shouts filled the air, sharp and urgent, but the words were foreign—Portuguese.

Louis's confident smile faltered as he turned toward the door. "What the—?"

Suddenly, the room was flooded with heavily armed officers in dark uniforms. They barked orders in Portuguese, their voices sharp and commanding. Louis and his men froze, confusion and panic washing over their faces.

"Police?" Bloom whispered, clutching my arm. "But... they're speaking another language."

"We must be in another country," I realized, my heart racing. "Brazil."

The officers moved quickly, subduing Louis and his men before they could react. Louis tried to resist, shouting angrily, but his words were drowned out by the officers' commands.

As Louis and his men were dragged away, one of the officers knelt down to speak to us. His voice was gentle, though we couldn't understand his words. A translator quickly arrived, her voice soothing.

"You're safe now," she said, her English heavily accented. "The bad men can't hurt you anymore."

Relief washed over me, but it was bittersweet. The boys—no, the girls now—remained naked and unconscious, their transformations complete. There was no undoing what had been done to them.

We were taken to a safe house, where kind strangers gave us clothes and food. Bloom and I clung to each other, still shaken but grateful to be alive. The boys—now girls—woke one by one, their confusion and grief palpable. They cried for the lives they'd lost, for the parents they'd never see again.

Though we were free, the scars of Louis's experiments would never truly fade. But as I held Bloom's hand and looked at the children around us, I made a silent promise: we would find a way to heal. Together.